Immortal Guardian
by lisa.ryanz1oh1
Summary: The Wizarding World is at peace after the Second War of Hogwarts. But the Savior of the World is needed in another world. Clearly, his 'saving people thing' is something he was born with. Because Harry Potter just can't resist helping people in need.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - The Last Day**

Welcome all readers to this new story set in the Avengers timeline, except this time I'm also working with the first Thor movie timeline. One of my readers - **Crazyboi23 - **requested a particular setting for a new story a few days ago, and this is the result. This is the first time I'm writing anything in/with the Thor Universe, so please be kind. Constructive reviews and insightful comments are always welcome, so do feel free to write in. No flames please.

Oh, and the story is non-compliant with the end of the 'Deathly Hallows' version of the Harry Potter books.

Do hope you enjoy the story. And of course, Read and Review!

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"And so, on this, the One Year Anniversary of the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the hands of the Saviour of our World, it gives me great pleasure to present our highest honour to Lord Harry James Potter-Black Slytherin Peverell. The Order of Merlin, First Class. Lord Potter-Black, for your dedication to the War effort and for saving our world from the self-styled Dark Lord You-Know-Who, please accept this token of our everlasting gratitude."

A thunderous roar arose from the avidly watching crowd as the newly instated Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, presented the Boy-Saviour with the Order of Merlin, First Class medal, attaching it to the lapel of his long Muggle style coat. The boy was now a man, a fierce, proud, tested, veteran warrior of a long, prolonged war that had reduced Wizarding Britain to a shambles of its once illustrious past.

Continuing long past his years of schooling, Harry had both voluntarily and forcefully been pitted time and again against the strength of his mortal foe, until just an year ago, in 2009, he had finally been able to cast the killing blow on Lord Voldemort, ending a long rein of darkness and terror over the country.

The wizarding population of England had turned up in London for the week-long festivities, celebrating the fall of Voldemort at the hands of the Boy-Who-Lived. The people watched as an old, wizened wizard came up to the podium, face covered by a heavy cowl, giving the Minister a small box and a parchment. Those closest to the raised platform saw the shock and surprise on the Minister's face as she watched the wizard retreat into the shadows. Collecting herself, Amelia Bones turned to Lord Potter-Black and read out from the parchment in her hands, speaking over the gasps from the crowd.

"We of the Department of Mysteries congratulate you on defeating Voldemort. After long consultation, we bestow upon you two gifts. First, we name you Ambassador for Magic. We have watched you since your conflict carried you into the Dept. of Mysteries years ago and we are merely carrying out the wishes of Magic herself who named you Her champion that day."

"Secondly, since the champion must have free rein in any realm, we give you the gift of Exception."

Apparently following instructions on the parchment, Minister Bones gave the small box to Harry, who took it with no little trepidation. The Dept. of Mysteries was not one to be trifled with.

"If you open the box, young champion, you will find a medallion etched with the symbol of the Hallows Three. We know their meaning and what they have meant for you. We bid you wear it now."

Amelia waited while Harry opened the box and slid the medallion on its silver-white chain over his head, the medallion resting securely on his chest. Then she continued to read, "It is only right that we recognise your Exception to the rules of Magic and proclaim you free from the Statute of Secrecy, long held in the British Isles by the Law of the Wizarding Council of 1601. We know that you will not abuse your position. We have faith in you. So it is said. So mote it be."

A brilliant flash of light sealed the magic and a chime sounded, low and sweet and clear, resounding in the air until it dissipated.

"Well," drawled an amused Harry Potter, "that was interesting." He knew this could get ugly fast if the situation wasn't diffused. Already there were people in the crowd and several in Ministry robes who looked as if they would move to apprehend him for no fault of his. Well, he was tired of being the Wizarding world's scapegoat. He cast a Sonorous on himself.

"My thanks to you Minister Bones for the honour of the Order of Merlin, First Class. It will serve as a reminder of the people I fought for and I will wear it in memory of those who gave up their lives for us to see this day of freedom. I wish only that we who live continue to live in a manner that would honour the fallen, to grieve, to laugh, to love and to heal in time, as they would wish us to be."

"The honour given me by the Dept. of Mysteries is one that I will strive to uphold to the best of my abilities. As Ambassador for Magic, I hope to be able to work towards the interests of the Wizarding peoples of the world, even though as Magic's Champion, the position gives me greater leeway than most governments, including the ICW."

Nodding heads slowed and stilled abruptly as they registered the changing tune of their spearhead for power. Amelia Bones had fought in the war, alongside Potter's private army, the DA, and her niece was one of the young man's closest friends. So she understood what Harry was saying. But she also knew that the Ministry was bigger than just her, and there would be many people who would prefer to keep the Saviour on a leash. If she knew this young man at all, they were welcome to try. Time to remind the populace who they were beholden to.

"Thank you Lord Potter-Black. We at the Ministry of Magic extend our warmest gratitude for ridding our world of Voldemort. In working to rebuilt Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and by rehabilitating several of our muggleborn families, you have shown your dedication to peace and your willingness to unite our worlds in keeping with our laws and practices."

"On behalf of the Wizarding England, I wish you the best in all future endeavors, and though our Auror forces will be sorry to see you go, we are proud to say that under your command, our vigilance has never been more constant. Any aid we can give you, you have only to ask for."

She and Harry shared a smile of complete understanding, as they moved to stand together. "Witches and wizards, I present to you, the Lord Potter-Black Slytherin Peverell, our Ambassador for Magic, by Decree of the Minister for Magic of Wizarding Britain."

Applause rose from the people as Harry took a bow and shook hands with Amelia. When he leaned in to kiss her cheek, he whispered, "Well played."

"I did learn from the best, Harry."

They chuckled together as they both said, "Hermione."

"How is Susan?" Harry asked after a round of greeting various dignitaries.

"She's healing well. Neville brought that salve he was talking about and it truly does work like magic. It seems Professor Snape had some influence after all."

Harry laughed, presenting a powerful photo opportunity to the circling journalists, who all quickly snapped several photographs of the Saviour sharing a light moment with the Minister for Magic. Ignoring them, Harry took his leave of Amelia and headed for the Head of Auror Corps.

"Kingsley."

"Harry! Its good to see you. Congratulations! I thought Amelia would have you circulating with the old crowd for quite a while longer yet."

"Eh, I've done my bit. Plus, you know how stiff my spine is; can't bend worth a damn."

"Too right," exclaimed the Auror, clapping Harry on the back. "Merlin knows too many tried long enough."

"And they have the bent backs to show for it," chuckled Harry.

Kingsley laughed and the two friends spent a while reminiscing about the war and their friends, old memories as alive and real now as they had been when they lived through them. At length, however, Harry took his leave from the celebrations, meeting his closest friends and family one more time before Fading away to Potter Manor, his family home situated in the hills above the valley called Godric's Hollow.

There were things to do and people to meet, and he didn't exactly have time to waste. The summons had been clear. Much as he hated to be dependable in life and death situations, his friends – read Hermione – had finally knocked into his head that his 'saving people thing' wasn't actually bad. He just couldn't help himself.

He didn't think that was any kind of excuse, but there was no way he was going to say that to Hermione.

The smart girl had become a formidable woman; a woman who was now even more dangerous when crossed as she was loyal to those she accepted as family. And as her best friend and blood brother, Harry Potter was first in line. She would and had killed for him, and had been tortured horrendously for him, but all through, her faith in Harry had never faltered and their love for each other had never failed.

And in all these years, the one mantra their closest friends and family held to was simple – Hermione is never wrong. It had served him well for many years. He wasn't going to start doubting it now.

And so Harry Potter, Voldemort's Bane, Saviour of the Wizarding World, having packed all his earthly possessions in the small pack with the numerous pockets and extensive Expansion Charms and Lightening Charms, sending off a few Patroni to the people who needed to be notified of his imminent departure, Faded away from Potter Manor, to appear in another realm, in a different world.

Good thing he'd been granted carte blanche with Magic just earlier that day.

He was going to need a bunch of shades for all the reflective gold this place was made of.

**It's a bit short, yes. But I really didn't want it to go any further. Thoughts and comments welcome. Read and Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Parent Teacher Meeting**

Its good to see such an immediate interest in this story. So many people have read it already, not to mention the follows and the favorites. Its just been very encouraging. Thank you all and especially to **Raychaell Dionzeros, ElectroVenik, Alice**, **KUMA-Fury19, Irokoutlol1, sad sabrin, davycrockett100, InterdimensionalHitchhicker84, serenityselena, god of all, .Warrior, Sevvus **and** Anankastic Eosphorus** for their reviews on the first chapter.

**A.N.** \- I'm going to revise what I said in the previous chapter. This story will be non-canon about a lot of things, but I'm keeping a lot else. So there's going to be extensive use of poetic license with regard to canon HP literature. Of course, none of it's mine and I'm not making any profit off any of it either. More's the pity I suppose.

**P.S. –** Many apologies for the very late update. Life has been quite stressful and things are just starting to settle down a bit. It seems that updates will have to be slower than I would like, but they will be there. Sorry for making you all wait, but thank you waiting for this story if you're still here.

Next chapter up below. Enjoy!

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Having appeared in the set of rooms set apart for his own use, Harry unpacked quickly, arranging everything just as he liked it before following his stomach to his en suite kitchens.

Over the years, his teachers and then his charges had grown accustomed to his habit of preparing his own foods when in an unfamiliar place. While his teachers learnt quickly that kitchen duty wasn't exactly a punishment for the young mage, his students came to enjoy his preparations at the end of the school day.

After all, it wasn't everyday that the Master of Death came to the Golden Halls of Odin, pride of Asgard and known in all the Nine Realms.

Knowing that his wards would have announced his arrival to his friends, Harry prepared a large amount of food. Most of it was for Thor and the Warriors Three, and he included several spare sets of cutlery, crockery and mugs, even though he would be able to repair everything the enthusiastic eaters traditionally broke. As he finished setting the long table, the first of his hosts arrived.

"Greetings young mage. This is indeed a wonderful welcome, though it should be our honor to hold a feast for you." As always, his voice, whisper soft could be heard across the room, and Harry hurried forward to kneel before the King of Asgard.

"Rise, Harry Potter," spoke Odin, resting his hands on the young man's shoulders. Beside him Frigga smiled affectionately at her young charge. Harry rose and bowed formally, but his face was open and happy when he stepped forward to embrace Frigga, who treated him like a son.

"It is good to be home, Mother Queen."

"Come Harry, no more of that. You are only my son, no more a student. We have taught you all we could and the Warriors Three have had their own share of knocking you around the arena. Many happy hours have we spent in the gardens and walkways speaking of our lives. You have no more need to call me Queen, any more than do the sons of my blood and heart."

Harry smiled cheekily. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Irreverent brat," returned the Queen fondly, swatting a retreating arm as the boy she had come to love as her own danced away towards the table, pulling out a chair for the loving woman and pushing it in when she sat.

"That he has always been, mother. Even in the training grounds he paid us no more respect than a troll would a dragon."

"And you hold yourself to be the dragon, do you Thor?" challenged the wizard.

"Aye. And well would you know it, were you not one yourself," replied the young warrior god, as he strode across the room to pull the wizard into a strong, bone-crushing hug to rival Mrs. Weasley's finest. "We have missed your messy head of hair in our halls, and your ferocity in battle."

"And I you and our family and the peace to be had in the vast halls of father's libraries," assured Harry with a laugh, extricating himself and waving a hand towards the kitchen, charming the dishes to float over to the table, each sitting precisely in its designated place. "Where is Loki, mother?"

"He should have been here. I did inform his tutor of our plans today. Master Tyr has been trying hard with our Loki, but he has other strengths than the physical," Frigga fretted.

"Loki must learn to be self-sufficient even without his magic, Frigga. I had hoped that having Harry for a partner, he would be moved to take his lessons more seriously, but the boy is more of a mind to pranks and tricks than physical ability."

"Odin …" started Frigga, but stopped as Harry held up a hand.

"My Lord, Loki is an individual. He may not have the strengths that you would wish, but each person is different. And not everyone likes being led on a path they do not wish to walk. I know that better than most," he added, pointedly reminding the All-Father of his own circumstances.

"As Loki's teacher, I strongly feel that if my charge has a clear ability in a particular field, then he should be encouraged to develop it and direct his energies into more fruitful courses. If he is shown a way to use his magic in a manner equal to Thor's strength or even in matters of state, Asgard would all the better for it. The unity of the princes, each with their own abilities, will give pause alike to both your enemies and allies."

The All-Father looked at the wizard, his single eye piercing in a way Dumbledore's had never been. Harry refused to back down from that gaze. Frigga watched, fretful and worried. Thor looked on with amusement; it was an argument he'd heard often from both his brothers.

Thor did not begrudge his brothers their abilities with magic. But he knew that Harry, with his natural aptitude for both the magical and physical arts, had provided a welcome bridge between the princes, a buffer that both could turn to and confide in. And both had felt his absence in the years he had had to spend in Midgard between visits. Like a void; a connection, an intuitive understanding of the other that was missing. Neither brother had liked it. But for all that, and his own preference for the thrill of the fight and war, Thor loved his mischievous younger brother. Even with all his pranks.

"You have grown much, Harry Potter-son in your time away from our halls. Though I do not think your lessons in diplomacy and politics have harmed you overmuch," announced Odin suddenly, a very small smile on his lips.

Harry grinned at Frigga as he replied, "I'm sure I remember a different set of lessons in diplomacy especially for speaking with you, My Lord."

"Father, Harry," admonished the old King, an amused twinkle in his eye."

"Yes, Father."

Loud laughter and exuberant chatter down the halls announced the imminent arrival of the Warriors Three. Both Harry and Thor rose to welcome their friends. Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg strode into the room, walking abreast as always, making straight for the food-laden table. Or, at least Volstagg was.

"Come on Harry! Let me get to the table, and we can sit and eat and make merry as usual. Leave the meet and greet for later. Such mouth-watering aromas have been floating around the halls for hours and we have been hard pressed to keep our minds equal to our tasks. Had it not been for Lady Sif and Hogun and Fandral keeping me occupied, I would have been here sampling the sauces. Now let me have sustenance and stop pushing! Is that a whole roast boar I see?"

"Thor, would you mind man-handling this mountain of a man to some order before our King?"

The sudden silence at the table was comical. The Warriors Three looked like someone had cut their strings, as they went down on one knee as one, right fist held to the chest and head bowed towards the head of the table where Odin was observing the goings-on with some amusement.

"How many times, Volstagg, have I mentioned to you the importance of learning your surroundings no matter the time or event concerned?"

"Erm … mumble mumble …"

"What was that?" inquired Odin casually, while Harry and Thor sniggered behind their hands.

"Uh … seven thousand two hundred and forty six, My King … counting today."

"And I have yet to see such advice bear fruit. Mayhap a few more days in the wilds would better suit your appetite. What do you say Thor?"

Pulling a straight face with some effort, Thor nodded solemnly at his father's words.

"For the sake of a feast, Volstagg would fight his way through giants, Thor. Be careful what you agree to."

The company turned towards the voice in the doorway. A tall, slim young man, his black hair slicked back from his pale face, green eyes holding a hooded expression, stood with his arms folded, leaning against the doorpost. A raven-haired young woman wearing armor and several weapons strode past him to kneel with the Warriors Three.

"Rise, warriors of Asgard and greet your host," said the All-Father benignly, while Frigga silently motioned her younger son to come in.

The Warriors Three greeted Harry with much back-slapping and laughter until Thor had to intervene and get them to take their seats. When Harry recognized the raven haired beauty, however, he couldn't quite control his outburst.

"Lady Sif! What happened to your hair!?"

"It is a long story, Lord Potter, but one that I am sure you will soon hear, for there is much you have missed in your long absence."

"What Sif is being too polite to say is that Loki's mischief caused her to lose her golden locks. And these are new ones made in the forges of the dwarves."

"The dwarves? And you promised them what in exchange for this gift?" inquired Harry of Thor, as they all say down to eat, the dishes magically moving in clockwise fashion staring from Odin.

"I do not know. It was part of Loki's punishment to request this favor of the dwarves. We do not know what he may have promised them in return."

Harry frowned. Part of a punishment could mean anything on Asgard, and with Loki's affinity for mischief, and the involvement of the dwarves, the price could have been anything too. But he did not want to start a dispute at his table, and so he merely nodded at his friends and served the wine and mead.

But as they ate and talked and laughed like the family they were, Harry could not help but notice the one silent face at the table. He resolved to speak with his brother and the Queen Mother as soon as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – The Gods are Human Too**

My apologies to all my readers for such a late update. Life got in the way and I haven't been able to write at all. But I have every intention of seeing this story through to the end. To everyone to is still reading this, my thanks to you for you patience. The next update should be up soon.

Thank you, to **A****aron Leach, robert32514, mattcun, Clay19,** and **rmiser1994** for your reviews. Hope you all like this chapter.

Read and review!

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"Mother, will you tell me all that has happened in my absence?"

Frigga turned towards the voice to see Harry standing in the doorway to her apartments, a frown marring his face and concern burning in his eyes.

"Come in, Harry." She gestured to the sofa and came to sit on the settee, knowing her son's mood. "I will tell you what you wish to know."

The young immortal stepped forward, looking around the room he had spent so much of his time in when he was still a student. Frigga had overseen much of his studies in Asgard, making him feel welcome, a mortal among gods, with a destiny much too heavy for shoulders far too young. She had provided a sense of normality and acceptance in a place that gradually became home to the young man, until his own nature and attributes drew him into other pursuits with the princes. This was a place where he could be himself.

Sitting across from the Asgardian Queen, Harry waited patiently as serving women laid out a light meal of fresh fruit, honey cakes, wafers and nectar. He'd often turned to Frigga in times past, knowing that she would not hide the truth, though she might delay it.

When the two were once more alone together, Frigga looked at the young man opposite her and said, "It has been a long time since you have been with us, Harry, and though Heimdall has kept his eye on you, we have missed you here. Your presence was a welcome balance in this house, one that I have long known that we have always needed. And one that I fear may now be needed more than ever before."

"Please, mother, speak freely. Tell me what has fared here."

Picking up a slice of apple, Frigga laid the selection on a plate, quickly putting together a few delicacies, as she thought about what to say. Setting the plate before her son, she took up the tale.

"Ages ago, in a time long before your existence, Odin went to war against the Frost Giants of Jotunheim, in retaliation for the murder of his father Borr. He defeated them and killed their king, Farbauti. The armies of Asgard returned victorious, but for one addition to their party."

She took a sip of nectar. Harry sat silent and observant.

"Odin found a small Frost child lying abandoned in a temple in Jotunheim. In compassion, he brought that child back home and laid a glamour on him to make him look like one of us." She raised her gaze to his. "We have brought up Loki as our own son, treating both brothers equally."

Nothing changed in Harry's expression as he digested this piece of news. In the time he'd spent on Asgard, he'd never had even an inkling of this before. Odin and Frigga truly did love both their sons and tried to deal with both equally. In fact, Frigga was known to support Loki whenever he did something mischievous or magical or something that Odin disapproved of. Even with regard to his own inclusion into the fold of the royal family, there was no discrimination, once they had decided to accept him as one of their own.

But Harry realised that the two cases were not the same. In fact, for him to have been accepted into the royal family of Asgard was the same as being accepted into the Weasley family. But for Loki to have been brought up as one of them…..

Frigga knew she had to continue when Harry's eyes shifted to the plate before him and he picked up a slice of apple. Chewing methodically, he raised his eyes to her again and the Queen continued.

"You know from our histories, that Odin gained the power of wisdom and sorcery after many adventures and many hardships. There are not many things that Odin does not know or see through those ravens of his. His leadership has been steadfast, his rule a constant guidance. He has kept our race and, our people and our family together in all these long years."

Frigga took a deep fortifying breath. "Loki tries our king's patience sorely. He is a child still, and is given much to pranks and tricks and sleights of hand, when Odin would prefer him to be studying or practicing warcraft with Thor and the Warriors Three. You know this. The brothers have great regard for each other, but Thor had no patience with Loki's latest prank."

Biting into a thin cream wafer, she paused for a short while, listening to the absolute silence in her rooms. This could only be due to the privacy wards that Harry had undoubtedly set up sometime in the past hour or so. For this, she was thankful, for Frigga knew that Loki would have eavesdropped on this conversation and that was not something they were prepared for.

"You know how hard Sif has had to fight to be accepted among the warriors, especially by the Warriors Three. And that was even with Thor training her himself. She's always been a little … diffident, despite her aggressive assertiveness. Loki crept into her room one night and shaved off her hair."

Harry blinked.

Frigga couldn't see anything in those green eyes looking back at her from that impassive face. So she continued.

"Sif was angry and upset the next day, that was a given. We didn't see her anywhere but the training grounds for the next week. But Thor was furious. He and Loki fought it out and eventually Loki offered to go to Svartalfheim, the realm of the dwarves, and ask them to forge Sif new hair, finer than her own, as recompense."

"We don't know what he did there, or how he did it either, but three months ago, when he returned from the dwarven realm after a month, Loki returned bearing not only the new hair that Sif now wears, but many other gifts of dwarven craftsmanship. For the sons of the dwarf Ivaldi forged not only a new head of hair for Sif, but also two other marvels: Skidbladnir, the best of all ships, which always has a favourable wind and can be folded up and put into one's pocket, and Gungnir, the deadliest of all spears."

"The new hair he gave to Thor, the ship to Freyr, and the spear to Odin. But these were, I think, the legitimate gifts."

"There were others," Harry stated. Frigga wouldn't look so uncomfortable, if that had been the end of the story.

"There were," she agreed. "A living boar with golden bristles, a magic golden ring, and a hammer made of Uru. Again, Odin got the ring, Freyr the boar and Thor the hammer. All wonderful gifts for their various reasons. What wasn't as good was what happened afterwards. We were visited by two dwarf brothers, Brokkr and Sindri, who had apparently made those last three gifts. They had come to claim what they were owed on Loki's wager."

"And what was that?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Loki's head."

Harry stilled in shock, running those words over in his mind, the implication hitting him hard.

"You're saying that Loki wagered his _head_ on those three things?"

"Yes."

Harry sat back, suddenly breathless. Which was ironic because he didn't quite need to breathe per say. It wasn't a physical requirement. It was a physical reaction. And right now, the lack of it sure felt real enough.

"As they explained it, Brokkr and Sindari were challenged on their ability to make articles of beauty greater than those that the sons of Ivaldi had forged. Since they were successful, which I think was a forgone conclusion on Svartalfheim, they had come to ensure that Loki held up his end of the bargain. They had come for Loki's head."

Harry jumped up and started pacing, unable to sit still any longer. "Does Loki know about his past?"

Frigga was watching the man she considered a son carefully. His movements were sharp, controlled, but sure. His face betrayed nothing of his emotions or thoughts. He had mastered Occlumency long ago, but his ascension to godhood had wrought other changes upon him as well. His sudden question startled her out of her thoughts.

"No, I believe not. Odin and I have kept it from him and he and Thor were close enough in age that we never told Thor. They were simply brought up together as our sons."

"I see." Hands behind his back, Harry gazed out at Frigga's gardens; a center of calm in the midst of storms. The silence stretched as he stood there, each of them lost in their thoughts. "Well then, seeing as how Loki's shoulders still support his head, what happened next?" asked the young man, turning expectantly to hear the end of the tale.

"We called Loki to attend the meeting, where he said that while he was perfectly willing to pay the wager he owed, he had only wagered his head and not his neck which could not be differentiated from his head. The dwarven brothers were not happy with that, I can tell you, but they agreed to let matters go … at another price." She rearranged the folds of her robes when sharp green eyes pierced her own.

"Since they could not collect on the wager, the dwarves chose to ensure that Loki would not be able to lie or tell tales ever again, nor use his cunning for harm caused to others." She wrung her hands together, her voice growing softer now.

With a thought, Harry knelt before her, taking her hands in his own, calming the nervous motion. When Frigga had calmed a bit, he asked, "What did they do, mother?"

"Oh Harry!" she sobbed, "They sewed together his lips with magical thread that burned and twisted like a living thing until it burned out on its own a fortnight later. Such pain my Loki suffered and there was nothing I could do!"

Harry drew Frigga into his arms, holding her as she wept; a mother concerned for her son. He doubted she had cried before this and wondered if anyone knew the pain this woman had borne.

Completely disregarding the fact that Loki was adopted, he thought over the story he had just heard.

Loki's pranks and his easy going nature were well known in the royal household and even further abroad. It was unlikely anyone knew just how far and deep Loki had delved to learn how to develop and control his magic. He knew Frigga had guided his studies initially, but the boy's innate shyness and the constant rebuke he received for practicing his talent, had quickly drawn Odin's attention and ire.

But with Odin's attention had come the insistence of the King's rules and a loss of freedom and individuality for the growing youth. Harry himself had seen the affect Odin's high handedness had on the younger prince. Loki might even have expected a sense of kinship with his father, a mentor for his magical studies, as Odin was Thor's first teacher in Warcraft. But this was not to be. Though he had never said anything, being thankful for the kindness the royal family had shown him, Harry had seen the growing estrangement between father and son, and he had tried to be a friend to Loki.

But his duty to his own world had pulled him away and the years had moved quickly in Asgard. Now that he had returned, much had changed in his absence and he wondered just how much damage had already occurred. Judging by this account, there was a lot he had to catch up with.

Placing a supporting arm around his mother's shoulders, he gently extricated himself from her desperate embrace and held her hands between his own in warm reassurance. But his mind was racing. There was a lot he did not know and that hindered his ability to make decisions. Then a thought struck him and he asked, "Mother, what else is there that you aren't telling me?"

Frigga went very still, her eyes closing in despairing resignation.

"Mother? If I am to help Loki, you must tell me what you know."

Frigga released a harsh sigh but did not look at her son. "Loki is the son and Heir of Farbauti, the King of Jotunheim and of Laufey, his Queen."

"What?" exclaimed Harry in shock. "Then why was he abandoned?"

"Loki was a disappointment to his father, being so much smaller in stature. As a newborn, he was as like a human babe, than one of the race of ice giants. Indeed, but for his natural colour and the icy touch of his skin, he could have been taken for one of our own children." It was like a dam had broken, and Frigga was finally able to say everything she had always thought and feared to someone she cold trust; the burden of secrecy had been too much for her, and now her son was paying the price.

"Have you never wondered why Loki never took anything more than a light wrap whenever all of you went hunting in the wilds? He does not feel the cold as we do, being by nature inured to it. But that does not mean he does not still have a living beating heart. When Odin brought him back, he was meant to reside among us much like Freyr and Freya do. But even as the Vanir have become one of our own, so Odin's love for the boy grew and he laid powerful charms and glamours on him that have held to this day. He looks like an Aesir, and he is our son. But I fear these revelations and the constant rejection of Loki's innate nature may prove to be the wedge between him and us that will drive us all apart."

Twisting on the couch, she turned to face the second boy she had all but adopted into her family. Her love for all three of her sons was equal, and though she defended Loki to her husband and eldest son, never had she wanted to create a difference between them. She had thought all her boys were happy together and held one another in equal regard. To now realise that her youngest might be rent from the familial cloth, brought great pain to her heart.

"Harry, call it a mother's premonition, but I fear what is to come. My sons and my husband are all strong willed and will not be easily diverted from whatever paths they are already on." She let go his hands and stood, a goddess, tall and firm against the rising tide. "I cannot ask you to intervene now when it is us, as parents, who should have intervened long years ago. But I wish to ask of you a boon."

Harry stood as well, in his lithe frame, the easy stance of a warrior, the bearing of a god. A force to be reckoned with. "Ask, mother."

"I would like you to watch over Loki. He has a good heart, but for now his heart is hurt and is clouded against us. Keep him safe for us." She looked at Harry, eyes glowing a soft gold, a testament to her hidden power.

"For your peace and for the well-being of my brother, I will watch over Loki to the best of my ability."

"And that is all I ask, my child." Frigga smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – A Conversation Overdue**

No, I have not forgotten this fanfic and have no intention of giving it up. But updates will be slow due to several reasons, as unfortunate as that is. However, I'm honoured by the reviews this story has received so far and I thank you all for your continued interest in it.

Many thanks to **Katsy17, mattcun, god of all, Le Diablo Blanc2, cilia-chan, Clay19, Sevvus, Von, doubledamn, Darkan89, Nerfhearder69, ANGEL FALLEN FROM HEAVEN, **and **E4mj** for your reviews.

I hope you like this next chapter. Do read and review!

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The thick book landed with a loud thump on the dark green carpet that lined the stone floors of the vast library. Its most recent reader slumped in his chair, arms hanging over the arm rests, head thrown back and eyes closed. A ragged sigh echoed in the still air of the room, carrying further in the silence broken only by a gentle, quiet rustling from the garden in the inner courtyard.

No one disturbed the silence, contemplative and frustrating though it was in equal measure. For all that one could choose to learn from the wisdom in these halls, there would always be something that could only be learnt through personal experience. A hushed chuckle broke the stillness as the reader remembered, a fond smile curving his lips, his eyes glowing with long remembered mirth. Lost in his memories, he did not notice the entrance of another being until a hand touched his shoulder.

In a flash the limb's owner found himself landing with a thump on the carpet covered floor, looking up into hard green eyes, offending arm confined painfully beneath him, while a hard knee dug a bruising groove into his stomach. He struggled to draw a breath and wheezed, "Harry!"

Green eyes blinked, cleared and widened in surprise and shock a split second before Harry jolted into motion, getting off his brother and helping Thor sit up. "Sorry. You surprised me. Does anything hurt?"

"Other than my pride, you mean?" Thor asked ruefully.

"Ah, never fear, Thor. You know that never lasts long. Your pride has always had an excellent rate of recovery," Harry grinned, rising and holding out a hand to his brother.

Thor took the hand extended in aid and pulled himself up off the floor looking none the worse for wear. "I had come to see if you would like to spar for a while as the day is almost gone and you have been in here for hours. But I think I would rather get some practice in myself. I have not had so hard a fall since Hogun first started sparring with me."

Harry clapped a broad shoulder and walked alongside the blond. "I've just returned from a war, Thor. My reflexes are still attuned to danger. Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll be defeating me in the arena again in no time." Green eyes flashed with sly amusement as he continued, "Or at least, I'll let you defeat me sometimes."

Thor sighed. "Aye, that may well be true. But in the meantime, you will accompany me to see Father. He has called for you."

Harry sobered. "Has anything happened?"

"I have not been told. Though it promises to be a quest since the Warriors Three have also been called. I hope to be able to take part in it."

"Let us see what the King has to say first." With that Harry grabbed Thor's arm and apparated them to the corridor just around from Odin's audience chamber.

"It would not kill you to give me some warning of your intention to do that! You know I hate that form of travel."

"It is useful though." They walked around the corner, knocked once on the great doors and entered.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You remember how I saved your head from being skewered right off your shoulders by that wild boar by this exact maneuver? And that time when you decided that antagonizing Tyr by making off with his favourite sword would be a smart move? If it wasn't for me, you'd be fighting all your battles with your left hand and no shield. And that time when you slipped eels into Volstagg's bed? Such a thrashing you…"

"Yes, yes, alright. Now do be silent, we're here."

As they approached the Seat of the King, they saw Odin pouring over a thick tome. Its leather jacket was cracked with age, but the edges were trimmed in gold. Harry coughed slightly, alerting the Allfather to their presence. Together they knelt on bended knee as the King turned to acknowledge them.

"Welcome, my sons. Rise."

Odin gently closed the book and put it away on a nearby desk, rising to stand. "I have asked you to come today on a matter of some importance. Thor, I would task you with leading the Warriors Three and a small contingent of our Einherjar and making a tour of the other realms we hold peace with. There have been rumors of unrest and I would rather they be resolved and put to rest as soon as possible."

"Yes, Father. Do we leave at once?"

"In the morning at first light, and you will inform your friends as they seem to have lost their way. Though you may, of course, make an exception of Midgard," said Odin with a smile towards Harry. "You must remember to be courteous and calm your temper, Thor. The battle for peace is not always won with swords and power, but with gentle words and calm diplomacy. This you must keep in mind. I would not have this mission turn sour for us later."

"As you will, Father. I shall be careful. We shall take your leave now and go to prepare for the journey."

"You mistake me, Thor. Harry will not be accompanying you on this journey. I have another task for him. Make your farewells now."

Though Harry had expected something of this nature from the beginning, Thor was surprised. But he did not say anything in the presence of their King. Turning to the raven-haired man beside him, he clapped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. "It seems we are to be parted, my brother. But I shall complete my duties and see you again very soon.

Harry smiled. "Watch your back, Thor, now that I shall not be at hand to pull you out of danger, or hold back your arm."

Thumping each other on the back, they let go and stepped back. With a bow to Odin, Thor turned and walked away, making for his room to pack and prepare for the journey. Then he would look for the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif and inform them of his father's instructions.

At the god of thunder stepped out of the vast hall, Odin and Harry faced each other. "Well, Father, what command do you have for me?"

With a sigh the King of Asgard took his seat again. "Harry, from the moment you first came here, we have loved you, taught you, sheltered you and guided you. But through the long years you have grown up into a strong young man and have grown too into your own power. Even though we cannot compare your wizardry with our forms of magic, the power you now hold is something different altogether. I would like to know where you gained it."

"I see. Am I being treated as a threat then?" Harry asked plainly.

"Not by myself or our family. We took you in as our son and such you remain in our hearts. You are to be respected as a Prince of Asgard though you will never take the throne, unless in dire need or by my command. But for our public support of you to hold water, we must know the truth from you. Will you place your trust in us, my son?"

Harry looked at the old man before him for a long while, lost in quiet contemplation and thoughts of a time not too long ago when another old man had asked him the same question. Then, the people wanted only confirmation of the extent of his power; now, Harry knew, the concerns were much more important. He nodded.

With a quick snap of his fingers, he brought a comfortable sofa chair into existence and took a seat. An off-hand gesture of his hand summoned a pair of small tables already laid with a plate of light snacks, a flagon of wine and a goblet each. When Odin did nothing more than to reach for a cream wafer, Harry relaxed into his chair and began.

"A few years into the second phase of the war after our Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had passed away, I, along with an ally, was following a lead that we hoped would bring the end of the war much closer. Dumbledore had left me a bequest in his Will, and a request to track down and destroy the Soul Shards of the Dark Lord. Voldemort had rent his own soul into seven parts, using very dark magic, in a bid to gain immortality. All that really happened was that the more of his soul he lost and more time passed by, the more his insanity grew. Towards the end, he was a maddened creature of primal rage and fear and instinct, a mere shade of his soul remaining in his body. Very rarely did his cruel intelligence shine through, and it was in one of these moments that I was able to destroy him. Anyway, what happened was…"

What followed was a long tale of war, hardship and an unusual alliance. It had taken many many years of searching and tracking to retrieve every single Horcrux, and the years of darkness only increased apace. War makes strange bedfellows, and there was nothing that Harry could have expected less than the alliance with Severus Snape. Chased away from Hogwarts grounds, Snape remained in contact with Harry through the communication mirrors, that Remus taught Harry to enchant.

The Potions Master had become an invaluable ally and the two had finally been able to bury the hatchet between them to make a formidable team. Together they'd sought out Voldemort's Horcruxes, working from the extensive notes Dumbledore had left Harry. Although the specific articles that may have been used as soul containers were not mentioned, the notes were detailed enough to give them as idea of what to look for. Plus, Harry had already known what a Horcrux felt like, thanks to his second year foray into the Chamber of Secrets.

By the end of his seventh year, the DA had become Harry's own private army, a network of informers and warriors, of analysts and enchanters, of spies and infiltrators that answered to him and his own inner circle – the Golden Trio, Severus, Luna, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Bill Weasley and Draco Malfoy.

At the end of his seventh year, right after the graduation ceremony, Harry had chosen to leave Hogwarts and even England to train under various masters, building up both knowledge and strength, even at times visiting Asgard for his training. But he never failed to keep in touch with the current events back home. Snape left with him, ostensibly under Dumbledore's orders to keep Harry safe, but they both knew their ties of friendship and dependence went much deeper than mere orders.

It had been with a sense of satisfaction that Harry finally did rend Voldemort's divided soul from this plane of life. With his plans for immortality scuppered, Tom Marvolo Riddle hadn't stood a chance against the Boy-Who-Lived.

Neither of them knew then that Harry was also the Master of Death when he faced off against Voldemort, his Lordship having activated the minute he'd used the Resurrection Stone to talk to his parents and Sirius. The night Snape granted Dumbledore freedom from a painful life, he had gained the allegiance of the Deathstick. He had later allowed Harry to Disarm him and gain its allegiance. The Stone Harry had already received from Dumbledore's bequest.

Apparently, so long as a single individual held the allegiance of the Hallows Three, that person would be considered the Master of Death. A circumstance that Harry later allowed had worked out quite well for all concerned. Death would never allow its Master to die, or at least, to remain in the realm of the dead. So Harry had returned to the land of the living even after being hit by Voldemort's Death Curse. And slain Tom Riddle for the last time, winning the war and the Battle for Hogwarts.

There was a long silence when Harry was finally done with the telling of his tale. The young man sat with his elbows resting on his knees, the empty goblet spinning idly between hands hanging from limp wrists. The elder was uncharacteristically slumped in his golden throne, drawing short harsh breaths, a hand over his face as he tried to compose himself. This was no King taking a report from a soldier; but instead a father listening to the wars his son had been through and what effect they had had on him. Slowly, as the silence deepened, the old man pulled himself together.

Making his way down to kneel before his adopted son's chair, he said softly, "Harry?"

When the young man raised cautious dead eyes to his own, Odin's heart smote him, and with actions faster than thought, he pulled the boy into his arms, encircling the slight frame with a powerful warmth. The pain he felt in his chest eased when the stiff form of his son relaxed into their embrace and a pair of wiry arms twined about his waist. They held each other without words, giving and taking comfort in equal measure, until a loud rumble announced that one of them had missed their noontime meal.

Harry laughed and pushed against his foster-father. "Mother will be most annoyed with you if you do not eat at once."

"Frigga always tries to make me eat when I'm in the middle of work. I'm the King, I have to work! Besides, I can always have food sent up from the kitchens. Although by the time it gets here, I'm busy with something else and it gets cold," he mumbled, then shot a sharp look at the wizard. "But not a word of that to Frigga, or you won't be allowed in the library for a fortnight."

Theatrically, Harry laid a hand on his chest and gasped in mock sorrow, "But Father! Am I not your favourite son!?"

Odin made the hall echo with laughter. "Don't let either of the other lads hear you say that. Now, let's see about getting something to eat, shall we? We can join your mother in the gardens. That will please her, no doubt."

The young man winked at his father and replied cheekily, "Indeed. It will also let her know that you admit you forgot to eat at the proper time and are now trying to get back into her good graces."

"Young brat. Begone with you and see that you meet us in the gardens with a sumptuous repast. And find your brothers and bring them along too. I know your mother has spoken with you. I shall be along momentarily."

Harry did not reply, only bowed to the Allfather and made his way swiftly from the room, vanishing the chair and tables as he left. He knew their conversation wasn't over yet, but he was grateful that it would not be now. For all his power, he'd often felt quite alone even as he'd worked in the post-war world to rebuild and remake the Wizarding World. There had been little time for leisure, and not much more for grief or introspection. He was grateful to the Allfather for accepting him as he was and not treating him in any way different than usual. Perhaps things would be alright now.

Odin watched the gilded doors close behind Harry's slight form and let out a tired sigh. Often had he spent immeasurable time in these vast halls, working or thinking; there was always something to be resolved in the kingdom. As he looked around the vaulted ceilings held up upon gracefully fluted pillars, his thoughts rested upon the young man who had just left. "Once before was a similar power seen in Asgard, though never within these halls. I banished that wielder then; but this is my son. How then shall I be just?"

With this wisp of thought floating through his mind, as on the feathers of Huginn, Odin made his way to his wife's gardens. It was a place where he could always find a measure of peace. Yet today, as he watched his wife and three sons talk and laugh among themselves with a carefree air, he felt the weight of magic in the air and the heavy hands of the Norns upon his family.

Lost in thought, he did not notice when Harry approached him. But a firm hand on his shoulder brought his head up and he looked into warm green eyes. "The time that will come to pass is not yet here, Odin Allfather. Put aside your worries and find peace here with your family. But do not forget the ties that bind us, for they will soon be sorely tested."

With a smile Harry returned to the table, setting it up for a small feast, leaving Odin to stare after him in wonderment, a fond smile curving his lips and hope lighting his heart.


End file.
